


The Defense of Sherlock Holmes

by lancesface



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anderson Is a Dick, BAMF John, Donovan and Anderson are idiots, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, John punches Anderson, John's POV, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock is hurt, really mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 13:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lancesface/pseuds/lancesface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderson and Donovan are being really crass. John has had enough after he sees Sherlock reacting to what they're saying even if he's the only one who can see it. He gets his BAMF on. Punches are thrown and feelings are shared. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Defense of Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are mine.  
> Un-betaed and un-britpicked  
> I feel horrible "saying" this stuff about him but it gets better, trust me.  
> Please follow me [here](http://shrlocksass.tumblr.com/) on tumblr

 

 

The Defense of Sherlock Holmes

“Bored.”

 

“Sherlock, you just finished a case, you can’t possibly be bored this soon.” It wasn’t John’s fault that Sherlock had received a text this morning about a case and thus proceed to solve it in four hours. He should really pace himself.

 

“Yes, I did, excellent observations, John, you really are progressing in that area.” Sherlock responded snidely.

 

John had to suppress the urge to throttle the man’s throat. He let out a sigh and counted to ten, this would pass, it always did. Maybe he should text Lestrade just to be sure. If he could just get Sherlock out of the house and get something to occupy his brain for a few more hours. Sherlock would come down from his post-case adrenaline high. Just after these thoughts left his mind, Sherlock’s mobile pinged.   

 

Sherlock all but flew off the couch, over the coffee table, to reach his phone, nearly face planting into the mantle as he did so.

 

“Oh, my! Is it my birthday John?” Sherlock questioned him.

 

“No. Why? Is there a double homicide that tickles your fancy?” John replied sarcastically.

 

“Triple, John! A triple homicide. That’s even better than the locked room one I had this morning!” Sherlock was now all but glowing from the excited energy flowing through him. John couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t the fact that there were three people dead, it was that it made Sherlock so immensely happy. Of course he was not happy about the whole dead people thing but when the world’s only consulting detective was happy who could be unhappy?

 

“Alright, where do we need to go? Hopefully it’s not too far this time.” John huffed as he pulled himself up and out of his armchair, heading for the loo before they left.

 

“ Not far at all. It’s in the parking garage of the building next to NSY.” Sherlock called out to him through the bathroom door. John finished and came out to an already coated and scarved Sherlock, barely keeping the enthusiastic smile from plastering itself across his face. By the time John had grabbed his coat and locked up their flat, Sherlock was outside with a waiting cab. The drive to the crime scene was short and quiet, neither of the men feeling the need to say anything.

 

When they finally arrived at the scene Sherlock had already produced a look of utter coolness and had spread it across the expanse of his face.

 

“Ugh, who invited the Freak?” Donovan remarked coldly when Sherlock walked up to the police tape cutting of the crime scene from the rest of the garage. To anyone else, Sherlock face of indifference never faltered, but to John, he saw it slip, for just a split second, to hurt. Sherlock, however, replaced it almost within the same second it slipped.

 

“That would be your boss, I believe.” Sherlock lifted up the police tape, allowing John to pass under it, before following suit.

 

“Well, that doesn’t mean that we need you here. He just gives you these cases because he knows that if he left you alone you'd go nuts. These are just pity cases. This is his pity for you, you psychopath.” Again John saw the slight falter in Sherlock’s mask, that was only visible to him, before it once again was replaced with look of disinterest.

 

“Yes, thank you for your opinions, Donovan. They are worth nothing and will be purged from my memory. You have accomplished so much.” Sherlock’s reply was icy and cold. Donovan huffed and walked away towards the bodies.

 

“Just ignore her.” John said in what he hope was a comforting tone that would not set Sherlock off on one of his rants about how he had not such human feelings such as hurt and sadness.

 

"What else would I do, John? Let her get in my head and make me feel bad? Please, those remarks will be deleted promptly on our arrival home. I have no room for emotions such as misery, we have a case on!”

 

“ No. No. I was just trying to be helpful.” This is exactly what John did not want to happen.

 

“Well, please refrain from anymore attempts, as they are distracting.” Sherlock swirled away towards the bodies and John was left to trail after him. Maybe he was just imagining those flickers of  hurt that flashed across Sherlock’s eyes. He wasn’t sure but he didn’t want to see them again, real or not.

 

As they neared the bodies, John grimaced, the victims throats had been slit from ear to ear, so deep that their heads were nearly separate from the rest of them. Sherlock immediately began his investigation, swiftly running his skilled fingers over the victim’s clothing, barely even touching them.

 

“Look at him, you can't tell me that he doesn’t get off on it. He’s a psychopath and that’s all he’s ever going to be. I don't understand why Lestrade keeps allowing him to consult with us. I’m telling you, that guy’s complete trash, he can barely stay off the drugs.”John overheard Anderson whispering, unsuccessfully, to Donovan over near where Sherlock was stooped over the bodies. John was the only one looking and he definitely saw Sherlock’s shoulder tense up as he heard what the two yarders were saying about him. John had had enough, but he didn’t want to upset Sherlock by defending so he remained silent while mentally pounding Anderson into the pavement.

 

“I know! I was telling him that and he doesn’t even flinch! It’s like he has no feelings whatsoever. He’s one sulk away from taking out half of London. One day, I tell you, one day we will be arresting him, for real. I keep saying that I think he’s garbage, the way he treats us, it’s like he thinks he’s so superior.” Donovan replied to Andersons complaint with an equally wounding grievance. John was positive that he saw Sherlock suck in a fast breath at this comment, there was no imagining it. That was when kind, caring, _Doctor_ John Watson was shoved rather harshly into the back and _Captain_ John Watson made his entrance.

He stalked over to the pair of officers and shoved Anderson into the cement wall.

 

“Listen you bloody git and listen good ‘cause I’m only gonna say it once. Sherlock Holmes is the greatest man I have ever known and he is 20 times the man you will ever be! He solves all the crimes that you fail to because of your complete and utter stupidity! Yes, he wants to solve them because he is bored, but he wants to save all the people he can. You have not seen him after he arrives too late, after another victim is killed, he’s a complete mess. So don’t you dare tell me that he doesn’t care or doesn’t feel! You don’t know him like I do so don’t even pretend you do. Your main issue is that you’re jealous because he is able to do his job along with everyone else’s on this god forsaken police force! So you better fucking leave him alone!” John shouted into Anderson’s face. The entire yard was silent and staring at John but he truly didn’t care. He would always defend Sherlock no matter what.

 

“ Oi! Let go of me you little twat! I’ll say what ever the hell I want about the freak. All he is is a psychopath and you’re just his little pup who trails along behind him!” John lost it, he pulled his fist back, biceps contracting, and let his fist meet Anderson’s face. He went down without so much as a sound.

 

“ Don’t you forget that I was in the army, I killed people. I’ve seen things that you can’t even begin to imagine so don’t make me out to be some delicate flower!” John spat. He was about to continue his admonishment of Anderson’s behaviour when he felt every eye in the room trained on him. He stilled and stood up, brushing off his jacket as he did so. The entire room was silent and every mouth was set slightly agape save for Sherlock. He looked somewhat put out, awkward, and extremely uncomfortable. The only sound the room was Anderson’s low grumbles as he fought to stop the flow of blood from his nose.

 

“Excuse me.” John breathed out as he exited the scene, walking quickly out of the parking garage.

 

“You know I could have you arrested for that!” cried out Anderson at John’s quickly retreating back.

 

“Shut up, Anderson!” Lestrade barked. “ Go clean up and don’t contaminate anything!” Lestrade added as an after thought. After that said, he sidled up beside Sherlock, running his hands through his grey hair.

 

“He isn’t wrong, if he wants to press charges for assault, he can have John arrested. I’ll try to talk him out of it, I can just make some excuse. John’s a good man, I’ve never seen him that kind of angry before. I mean I saw Sally and Anderson muttering with each other over there but I couldn’t hear what they were saying and obviously it was about you. Did you hear?”

 

“Yes.” Sherlock replied flatly. “ I’ve only ever seen him do that once before and I wasn’t even in the room. It was when you were arresting me and the chief superintendent said something about me and he chinned him. I never gave it much thought.” Sherlock looked as if, even if he was still speaking, he was taking a stroll in his mind palace. “ They were discussing me and my many idiosyncrasies. He clearly overheard them and got a bit cross.”

 

“Cross?! A bit?! Sherlock, I’ve never seen him that angry, and I’ve met up with him for a pint after you’ve done something idiotic!” Lestrade held up a hand to stop the contradiction. “ Forget your pride for a second. That was the angriest I think a person can get without having a bloody stroke, that’s not cross.”

 

“Yes, well, I was just answering your question, call it what you want. Now back to the crime. It was obviously the-”

 

“Sherlock!”

 

“What?”

 

“This is not the time for deducing. You need to go talk to him before John bursts a blood vessel. Make sure he’s okay.” Lestrade scolded. Sherlock made no move to go in the direction of John. He just began to fidget with the hem of his belstaff and continued to look anywhere but at Lestrade or where John had gone. Lestrade snorted with disbelief.

“You have no idea how to handle this, do you?”Sherlock looked up sharply, focusing in on Greg.

 

“Why would I? I have never had another person stand up for me like that, not my mother, not my father, or even my brother!” Sherlock snarled. “ I have never had a friend like John, or even a friend. So explain to me how I’m suddenly supposed to know how to handle another person defending me!” Lestrade would have expected for Sherlock’s to be showing no emotion but instead a pleading look that made him realize that he was truly lost and had no idea what to do with his emotions.

 

“Listen. You’re thankful for what John said and what he did, right?” Sherlock nodded. “ Okay then, go tell him thank you, ask if he’s alright, and ask if he needs anything, okay? All you have to do is make sure he’s not going to keel over because he’s having an aneurysm or whatever.” Sherlock nodded again, absorbing all Lestrade was telling him. He stood for a moment before turning and heading in the direction John had retreated.

 

John was standing outside the garage on the footpath. He had his arms wrapped around himself and was attempting to get his anger in check. He couldn’t believe he had just lost it like that. Sherlock was probably still in there solving the crime. If Sherlock had wanted John to defend him, he would have said so. He should have just used some of deep breathing techniques his therapist had taught him, then gone home and made some tea. He was just beginning to relax when heard footsteps behind him.

 

“John.” He turned around to face the consulting detective who was standing behind him.

 

“Sherlock, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off like that, I-” He was cut off by the detective suddenly enveloping him in a hug. John didn’t know what to do so he figured reciprocating the gesture was as good an idea as any.

 

The hug didn’t last long because he could tell Sherlock was getting antsy but didn’t know when to break it off, so John pulled back from Sherlock and stepped backwards.

 

“Are you alright, John?” Sherlock asked, looking genuinely concerned.

 

“Yeah, I’m was just a little peeved at what Anderson and Donovan were saying. By the way, I’m sorr-”

 

“Stop apologizing” Sherlock bristled. “You did nothing, that I can see, wrong. You handled the situation wonderfully, though, I would be a little worried about the idiot pressing charges. Now, are you quite sure you’re okay? You don’t need anything do you?”

 

“No, I think I’ll be okay, as long as I avoid those two arseholes for the rest of my natural life.” John made a weak attempt at humor but it crashed and burned pretty quickly. John cleared his throat and Sherlock looked down at his feet. Boy, they were just too good at this emotion filled kind of conversation.

 

“Ah, thank you, by the way, for standing up for me. No one has ever really done that for me before and I... appreciate it.” Sherlock smiled and it made John smile, too.

 

“No problem you’re my friend, it’s what friends do. I saw that they were upsetting you and that upset me, so, I told him what was on my mind.” Sherlock almost looked taken aback by John’s response.

 

“How could you tell they were- I mean, they weren’t upsetting me.” Sherlock attempted to cover his original question with an indignant denial. John had to hold back another warm smile from spreading across his face.

 

“Come on, I may be a complete idiot at deducing other people, but I can read you like a book if I so choose.”

 

“Well, erm, uhm, good for you. I hadn’t realized that your observation skills were progressing this quickly.”

 

Please, I’m still shite at deducing other people. Now, why don’t you go tell Lestrade who killed those people and then we can go home, yeah?” John was dead tired from all the screaming and shouting he had done. He just wanted to go home and have a nice cup of tea.

 

“Ah, yes. I can’t believe that I was called out on such a simple case!” Sherlock stated as he began walking back towards the crime scene. John smiled to himself as he followed, listening to Sherlock deduce what had happened and who had committed the murders. He had meant every word of what he’d said to Anderson and he knew Sherlock knew that. He would always be there to defend his best friend and he knew that Sherlock would to, he may not admit it, but he would. Because that’s what friends do, they protect each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Awww, sweet ending right? I incorporated some of the dialogue. haha. Hope you liked it. Comments are appreciated, as always. 
> 
> XOXO


End file.
